Ozzies House Of Death

by Ozzie Osbourne

For those of a squeemish / nervous / epeleptic / cardiac problems / vegetarian position I  must urge you to stop reading RIGHT NOW !

As some of you may know I  have worked as a slaughterman for nearly 14 years on & off at James Strange.  A few years ago the buisness closed down when the receivers were called in. Luckily I  had taken voluntary redundancy about 6 months before & was actually walking around Malia beach when I  got the message.

Anyway this may or may not interest you but I  must say it has given me some of the best times / wages / lessons in life that I  could only dream of.  The humour can be quite dark & sympathy has never been heard of let alone given. Working in a slaughterhouse made me grow up quickly On my first day I  was told by the manager Bert Davis to put a large tub of cattle heads on the scale.  After a couple of minutes thinking I  went up the slaughterhall looking for a pallet truck or fork lift.  No sign of one. So I  said to one of the lads who I  knew "Oi Paul,where`s the forklift truck?" he looked at me puzzled.  Then asked what I  needed it for.  I  said "To put that tub of heads on the scale".  Paul then burst out laughing & said "Drag the fuckers on you backward bastard". I  was expected to LIFT them on the scaleNot a chance.  Paul then came over and showed me "Watch" he said "Just like draggin a blackie off your Mam".  He then pulled the tub on the scale. "Fuckin hell"l I  though, "this is going to be heavy work".  From then on I  realised I  was in a hard job & byu the time I  was 20 i`d have muscles in my eyelashes.

Bert Davis my boss was a crackin bloke. Every morning at half five it would be "Here Ozzie,go get me 10 Hamlet from the shop & get yoursel 10 cigs". I  was off like shit off a stick I  tell you. The Owner Richard or as we called him behind his back "Dickie" was a funny bloke . Hated anyone whistling though. Many times i`d be in the lamb stunning pen whistling my bollocks off & Dickie would shout "Someone throw that Ozzie some facking budgie seed". One thing about Dickie though is he was a fair chap. If you wanted anything you just asked for it. No worries at all. From some steak for the weekend or a sub from your wage,Dickie would help you. So every Friday we`d go to him & say "Richard any chance of taking some steak home?" he always said "Yes,go get what you want off the butchers & then shout me the weight on the scale. I`ll write a receipt out for you. Give it you for less than the butchers get it"

So we`d get about 40lb of sirloin & stick it on the scale (Dickie couldn`t see the scale) & then shout "15lb Richard" then stick 30lb of rump on and shout "10lb rump Richard" he`d charge us hardly anything but we`d have a car full of steak on the way home.  Then it was off round the street about 6 pm delivering to my normal customers. They fuckin loved me. People were shady cunts with their mates because they wouldn`t tell anyone where the steak was coming from. They wanted it to heirselves. I`d make about 50quid in an hour & still be left with enough steak for myself.  Then during the early 90`s we stopped killing cattle & Dickie retired. 2 other blokes then run the place & they would let us take fuck all. But I  managed to find out that one of the night shift was on the take. I  found out where he was stashing pork for one of the drivers to pick up. Ozzie then started raiding his place a couple of times a week,ended up with about 3 striploins of pork a week.  Moving into the slaughterhouse I  had a foreman who may be known to any keen coarse angler. Frank Christy. People may come back & ask if Frank works part-time in North West Angling Centre. Well judging by the days he had off I  think he worked there fucking FULL TIME. Frank though was an excellent slaughterman who I  was taught by. As long as you showed willing then Frank enjoyed teaching. Frank also has some of the best philosophies I  have heard. In answer to him shagging Jordan he replied "What with her hole? fucking hell you could sit on the side & paddle your feet" also on the subject of the female anatomy he often stated that "It can open to fit a drainpipe & shrink to fit a pencil". Words I  have found true over the years.  

Anyway on to the real stuff eh ? The playing of slaughterhouse tricks / japes / pranks.  

One of my first days about 7 45am I  was asked by Bert to go to the port-a-kabin and get some muslin cloth (cloth to wrap around lambs before freezing it turned out to be). Anyway I  didn`t know what it was,so I  asked Tommy Walsh "Oi Tommy,were`s the muslin cloth?". Tommy turned round & without skipping a breath told me "Just go & sit down in there & i`ll find it for you". He pointed me to the canteen. "Great" I  thought. Anyway 15 minutes later Bert comes in & asks "What the fuck you doing?". I  replied "Waiting for Tommy,he`s finding it ". Bert just shook his head & said "You sit down i`ll find it eh? Ozzie he was taking the piss". Then Bert told me all about the saying, What it really came down to was "Find it your fucking self".  

Best laughs are in the slaughterhouse. Especially when new starters arrive. They are instantly led to the killing platform to show them what goes on. When the boss fucks off I  usually ask the new lad to pass me a knife from the steriliser & when he turns round with the knife i`d throw blood from a bleeding lambs throat on his face. Make him or break him in 10 minutes.  

One of the newer lads was working on the tank with me (big hot bath for dead pigs). Anyway I  was working the hoist, taking pigs out & the lad was dropping pigs in for me. As the hoist goes up to tip the pig in the de-hairing machine the pigs arse is right online with your face. I  shouted "Oi Wayne come here & show me how you lick your girlfriends twat".  The pigs arse & twat were right in front of him. He said "I usually do it like this Ozzie". Then he put his tongue about 2 inches from the pigs twat & started to simulate licking his missus. Quick as fuck I  pushed his face right in the pigs cunt. His tongue went in at least an inch. Fuckin pissed meself I did.  

Another one was when I  was on gutting. My mate Gaz was on plucking (removing heart,liver & lungs in one cut). Gaz got one of the plucks and shouted "Oi John" & when John looked round Gaz smashed the lungs & liver right in his mush. John was covered in blood. John vowed to get Gaz back. The thing is John was on bollocking at
the time & really he held all the cards. He run his knife through a pigs spunk sack & then with a handful of fresh thick spunk shouted "Oi Gaz" when Gaz turned John splatted the handfull of spunk right in Gaz`s face. I  fucking howled laughing. Saw every fucking second of it. Gaz then did the most stupid thing I  have ever seen. He went to the apron wash & poured loads of water on his face. He ended up with loads of stringy sticky spunk all over him. When i`d shot a beast, i`d get the fired blank and throw it down the back of some fuckers welly. Five minutes later the jagged bit of the bullet would cut their ankles open. That was sometimes fun too.  

Belgian Blues are one of the best. Killed a Belgian Blue heffer named Lulu for Tom Ashton (renowned breeder). Lulu was fucking massive. A right beast. Had to shoot her in the pen cos she wouldn`t fit in the knocking box. Then had to drag the fat fucker to the slaughter hall. When I  slit her throat there was gallons of claret. Fucking excellent she was to eat. The strange thing about this tale is that for years i`d told Tom that one day i`d kill Lulu. I  used to deliver meat to his shop on his farm & often spent a few minutes stroking Lulus head in her pen while telling Tom "I`ll fucking shoot her one day". He alwaysc insisted I  wouldn`t. Then the day came were he drove her into the the yard. Frank the foreman saw Tom almost in tears & was told it was Lulu.

Frank said "I`ll make sure she wont feel anything Tom". But Tom replied "I want Ozzie to shoot her. He`s always told me he`d kill her & I  know he wont mess it up". As a mark of respect though I  did cut the bullring out her nose & give it to Tom as he was bawling his fucking eyes out in the cabin. Aaah bless him. I  once shot a pig in front of some blokes who were working on the railway lines nearby. They said they were gonna banjo me if I  did it. Told them to "fuck off" then blasted the pig. Slit its throat too. One of the blokes threw his sandwiches away.  Anyway for those of you that have managed to get this far without fainting one last story. When someone asked me what I  did for a job I  usually replied with "Animal Aneathatist".  They usually reply with "Oh do you put animals to sleep before an operation?" "I certainly do love" then chuckle knowing that all the animals did indeed have an operation. They had their bollocks & their guts removed